Legacy - Night Horde SoCal 3

by Sarah Osborn

  “Jack.” He grinned as Spike weaved his way through the crowd towards him. “Brother! Good to see you.”

  “You too. Good run?”

  “Smooth as silk.”

  “Vince not with you?”

  “Nah.” Vince didn't bother himself with such trivialities as protection runs. In fact, these days he only really took part in high profile public runs, and Tiny sometimes wondered just how he managed to put in the requisite miles to keep his patch. “Just me, Long John, Mac an' the grunt.” He downed his Jack and slammed his glass on the bar for a refill. “Where's Samson? I thought he'd be here.”

  “He will be. He's just gone to fetch Emma from her faggot friend's place.” Spike laughed. “Speak of the devil.” He pulled Emma into a hug and kissed her on the cheek. “Hey Sparky. Where's your ol' man?”

  “Talking to Wolf.” She turned and reaching up on tip toe, kissed Tiny's cheek. “Hey.”

  “Hey, little one. You okay?”

  “Never better. How're Beth and the kids?”

  “Good.” He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length. “You're looking good. Very colorful.” She always looked colorful, like a splash of sunshine in the darkened room.

  She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “I don't seem to be able to pull off the biker chick look.”

  He couldn't resist touching her hair. Of late, she'd stayed her natural blonde, but now she'd added purple and turquoise streaks. “I like this. It suits you.”

  “Aw thanks, big guy. You look good too. Very... Tiny.” Her grin widened as Samson approached, and immediately she was at his side, her arms around his waist. “Tiny likes my hair.”

  Samson rolled his eyes. “I like your hair. I just said I prefer it natural.” Seemingly oblivious to the crowds around them, he bent and kissed her. “I always think you look good, baby girl. You know that.” Clearly satisfied that he'd used up his quota of compliments, he slapped her ass and laughed. “You don't have to fish for compliments from my brothers.” He turned his attention to Tiny and grinned. “You've been here less than five minutes an' already you're hitting on my woman.” He left her side and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Good to see you, brother.”

  “Good to see you, too.”

  Emma took a bottle of beer from Spike and grinned. “I'll leave you guys to your man talk.” She reached up and kissed Samson. “I'll be with Bonnie if you want me.”

  Tiny leaned with his back against the bar and watched Emma as she crossed the room to where Bonnie and a couple of other ol' ladies were sitting. “I'm surprised to see her here.”

  Samson shrugged. “She's been holed up with Felix all day – they're working together on some art thing – so she was already in town, an' she wanted to see you.”

  “The kid with Felix? You okay with that?”

  “Yeah, an' the dog. Stupid mutt pines if he's away from her. Felix an' James will fill 'em both full of sugar. They'll be bouncing off the walls when we get 'em back, but Lottie loves being there, an' Felix is Emma's friend.” Samson's eyes never left his old lady as he spoke. “It's good for her to have a life away from the club, even if the little faggot does drive me nuts.”

  Any further conversation was halted by a young girl in a skirt that was so short it would be better described as a belt and a tight beater that barely contained her tits. “Hey Samson. You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

  “Nope. Go play with Spike.” Samson gently, but firmly, pushed her away. “Spike. You want her?”

  “Maybe later.” Spike grabbed her ass and gave it a squeeze. “Take a hike, sweetheart. Oh an' tell your little friends, Tiny here is off limits.”

  “She new?” Tiny admired her ass as she tottered off on her ridiculous heels.

  “Yeah.” Samson chuckled. “Between Spike an' Yaz, the turnover of girls has increased somewhat.”

  “Can I help it if they can't handle a real man?” Spike frowned. “They don't make women like they used to.”

  Tiny snorted. “Most men don't need their latest fucks disposed of.”

  “Jesus. One gash croaks, an' I never get to hear the last of it.”

  Tiny shook his head. Spike had always had strange predilections, but their last trip to Sturgis had been a fuck too far, and it had been left to him and Samson to clean up his mess. “Jus' saying, brother.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Emma tentatively knocked on the door of the princess house that would be Tiny's home until he and his brothers were ready to return to Bay View. “Tiny? You decent?”

  “Sure, little one. Come on in.”

  He was sitting, shirtless, on the bed. Emma swallowed and put the mug of coffee on the counter. She'd never seen him without a shirt before, and although she'd guessed that there was some muscle there, as he was much leaner than Deke, she had assumed he was kind of skinny. Sweet Jesus, she couldn't have been more wrong. He was cut – really cut. “I....” She swallowed again and dragged her eyes away. “I thought you might want a coffee.”

  “Thanks.” He smirked. “Like what you see?”

  She could feel the blush rising up her throat and laughed. “Not going to deny it. That's one hell of a body you have there.”

  Tiny grinned. “Your ol' man gonna be a bit of a disappointment now, huh?”

  Emma smiled as she thought of her big, tough, bear of a man. Ever since she'd first laid eyes on him, she'd loved his body, and despite the punishment it had taken over the years, he still worked out on a regular basis. He may not have been as sculpted as the man sitting in front of her, but there wasn't an inch of fat on Deke's huge frame. He was magnificent, and there wasn't one thing she would change. “Not in a million years.”

  “He up?” He grabbed his tee shirt and pulled it over his head.

  “Yeah. He's in the workshop. You want some breakfast? I could do pancakes.”

  “That'll be great.” Their eyes met for a moment, and Emma got the feeling there was something he wanted to say. “You okay?”

  Immediately, the shutters came down. “Sure.”

  She sighed. “I better get back to the house, I've left Genghis guarding Lottie.”

  As he devoured his pancakes, Emma tried to surreptitiously study the man at the table. Tiny was an enigma, and she was no nearer to figuring him out than she was when they'd first met. She knew – she just knew – that he felt as much as everyone else, maybe more than many. But those feelings were buried deep, and the only time she'd ever really seen the mask slip was when he was with his kids. There could be no denying that he was a cold man who, unlike Deke, seemed unaffected by things he did for the club. Yet despite this coldness, this was a man who had shown her nothing but kindness and support, who took care of his mother, loved Beth and his kids without question, and would lay down his life for his brothers. Without looking up at her, he pushed the empty plate away. “Dunno what answers you're looking for, little one. But you ain't gonna get them from staring at me.”

  She shook her head and took the plate. “Who do you offload to, Tiny?”

  He frowned. “You think I need to?”

  “I dunno. You keep everything locked down so tight. How do you stop everything from just exploding?”

  He gave that minuscule smile that, if she hadn't have been watching closely, she would have missed. “What makes you think it doesn't?”

  “Does it?” Emma put the plate in the sink, then pulled up a chair opposite him.

  He shrugged. “Not often. Gotta focus that shit. Direct it at the assholes who deserve it. Why'd'ya wanna know?”

  Now it was Emma's turn to shrug. “You hide what you're feeling, but if a person looks hard enough, they'll see. You can talk to me, you know.” She laid her hand across his. “I don't know if you appreciate just what you did for me after I was attacked. You're the reason I'm not a complete basket case.”

  “You'd have managed without me. Samson would've taken care of you.” He chuckled and tapped his forehead. “An' the shit I got up here? Trust me, Emma. You don'
t wanna know.”

  ~ oOo ~

  Samson had always described his ol' lady as his little witch, and Tiny understood why. Beth read him well, but that came from a lifetime of knowing him. But Emma's ability to read people was something she shared with him – the ability to spot those nuances that gave a person away. Of course, his brother was easy to read. Hell, he was an open goddamned book. He ran his thumb across her knuckles, then pushed his chair back. “I'm gonna hunt down your ol' man.”

  “Okay... Tiny?”

  “Let it go, Emma.”

  Samson was in the middle of rebuilding an old Softail, and judging by the curses coming from the garage, things were not going well. Tiny pushed open the door and grinned as a wrench whizzed past his ear. Yep, no one could accuse his brother of holding things in. “It still pissing oil, brother?”

  “Goddamned piece of crap. I swear, next bike I get is gonna be a fucking Kawasaki.” Samson straightened up and stretched with a wince. “I'm gonna head into Aberdeen this afternoon – need to pick up a filter – you wanna come with?”

  “Sure. Long John wants to stay another night. He's found himself some fresh pussy, and ain't done with her yet.” Tiny picked up the wrench. “You sure it's the filter?”

  Samson shrugged. “Nope.” One of the cats woke and stalked over from the corner of garage. He looked down as it rubbed around his ankles and picked it up. “Got a call from Jez this morning. His SAA took a hit last night.”

  “Shit. He okay?”

  “Yeah. Got a slug in his back, but nothing vital was hit. He'll be on his feet soon enough.”

  “We know who it was?”

  “No. But my guess it's Serpiente. Word is, the nomads have been kicking up a stink in San Diego.”

  “Why would they be doing that? We ain't got no beef with 'em.”

  Samson put the cat down and pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket. “I've got no idea. Fox denies it's got anything to to with them, an' insists the Serpiente are talking shit.” He raised an eyebrow. “Vince say anything about it?”

  “Nope. First I've heard.” Tiny didn't like this. While relations with the Serpiente weren't exactly cordial, things had been peaceful for a while, and the last thing they needed was a turf war interfering with business. “You believe Fox?”

  “For now.”

  “Anyone reached out to our brown buddies for a sit down?”

  Samson shook his head. “According to Jez, no one took the whispers seriously.”

  “I'm guessing they are now.” Tiny curled his lip as the cat turned its attention to him. “If Fox has gone rogue, someone's gonna have to rein the nomads back in.” The cat meowed, reminding him of its presence. He scowled and pushed it away with his foot. “Vince will want it to be you.”

  “Vince will be disappointed, then.” Samson lit his cigarette and ran his hand across the back of the cat, who had now returned to him. “I'm done with that.”

  “And if the chapter falls apart? Club needs the nomads, brother. But you know better'n anyone, without someone keeping 'em in check, they're more trouble than they're worth.”

  THIRTY

  There was too much noise in Tiny's head. Riding would help him put his thoughts in order, but Samson was still busy battling with the Bobber and wouldn't be ready to hit the road for a couple of hours, so he found himself wandering back outside.

  He'd always imagined his brain as a series of boxes. All the different aspects of his life stored neatly away. Tiny liked to be sure; there could be no shades of gray in his life. He'd always been sure of the club; without it, he'd be drifting aimlessly through life, or, more likely, dead. He didn't question his orders and believed that every decision made was for the good of the club. But since making the move to Bay View, that belief was being put to the test.

  Emma was in the yard with Lottie and the dog. Tiny stood and quietly watched as she pulled the weeds from between the vegetables. Women, too, had their boxes: his family, ol' ladies and whores. Then there was Emma. She was an ol' lady, but somehow she didn't fit that mold. She reminded him so much of Amy, but she didn't feel like family, and she sure as shit wasn't a whore. Tiny frowned. He didn't know what box to put her in, and that bothered him. And the fact that it bothered him, bothered him more.

  She looked up and smiled. “Giving him a wide berth, huh?”

  “Yeah. Fucker nearly took my head off with a wrench.”

  Emma laughed and stood up. “If you're at a loose end, maybe you could make yourself useful. I have some fence posts that need putting in, and if I ask Deke more than once a week, he accuses me of nagging.”

  “Sure, little one. Lead the way.”

  ~ oOo ~

  Emma held the post straight and studied Tiny as he hammered it into the ground. She'd never met anyone as focused as him. It didn't matter what he was doing, he gave it one hundred percent. Vaguely she wondered what it must be like to live with a man like that – not easy, she guessed. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. “If you're hot, you can always take your shirt off.” He stopped hammering and stared at her, his expression... confused. Emma laughed. “Joke, Tiny. Relax.”

  He didn't smile; instead he dropped the hammer onto the ground and stalked away. Emma sighed and followed him – somehow, she'd offended him. “Tiny, wait. It was just a joke.”

  “I know.” He stood, staring out into the middle distance. “I ain't stupid.”

  “So why are you being weird with me?”

  “Dunno how to explain it.” He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and fiddled with his lighter.

  “Try.” She folded her arms and tried out a 'Tiny scowl' on him.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I dunno where to put you.”

  “I know that this will be a push for you, but I think you need to elaborate. You know, maybe use more than one sentence at a time.”

  This time, he actually smiled. “What are you? To me?” He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. “I dunno how to label you, an' it's pissing me off.”

  “Do I have to have a label?”

  “Yes.” He was so emphatic that she struggled not to laugh out loud. “Can't have things bouncing around in my head. I need to know where they belong. You don't fit in any of my boxes.”

  Now she laughed – she just couldn't help it – Tiny was obsessively tidy, and she knew it drove Beth nuts, but she didn't think it extended to the inside of his head. “I know I'm probably going to regret this, but I have to ask; where have to tried to put me?”

  He shrugged. “The usual places.”

  “Tiny!”

  “Sorry.” It was almost a grin that time. “Women are either ol' ladies, family or whores. You're an' ol' lady, an' I guess you're family. But you don't sit right there.” It was always hard to read his face, but for an instant he looked stricken. “Where do you fit, Emma?” He frowned “An' stop laughing. This ain't funny.”

  “Oh, Tiny. Yes it is. I'd kiss you right now, if I didn't think you'd take it in completely the wrong way. Just get yourself a new box, and label it 'friend.'”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Samson reluctantly followed his President into chapel. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation he was about to have. So far, events in Vegas and California hadn't touched the other chapters, but Bugs was getting increasingly concerned, as, over the past few months, attacks on lone Freaks continued, and now the Serpiente clubhouse in San Diego had been fire bombed and the finger of blame was pointed firmly at the Freaks.

  So far, no one had been seriously hurt, but it was only a matter of time if this wasn't nipped in the bud. Fox was lying – Samson knew he was – but he'd known the new President for a long time, and he also knew that someone was pulling his strings. And you didn't need a membership of MENSA to figure out who. He wasn't sure why, although money seemed the obvious reason, but someone was going to benefit from a war between the Freaks and Serpiente.

  He took his seat at Bug's left hand, and lit his cigarette. “I don't like thi
s, boss.” He looked around the empty room. “We can't do this on our own.”

  “No, we can't.” Bugs ran his hand across his forehead. “But this shit has got Vince's name written all over it. All you gotta do is follow the money. Serpiente are real strong in San Diego, they run the pretty much all the girls, an' have the heroin runs tied up tight. It's costing Bay View to run parts through their territory, an' anyone wanting to set up clubs or put their girls on the streets are gonna meet some serious opposition. Can't be coincidence that Moretti shows an interest in setting up business there, an' this shit goin' down.”

  “Knowing it an' proving it are two different things, Bugs.”

  “I know.” Bugs sighed. “We need to sound out the other chapters. Seattle will probably miss any shitstorm now there's no Serpiente presence in Portland. But Vegas an' Tucson are vulnerable. We need to figure a course of action, an' until we do, the fewer people involved, the better. I'm sorry, Samson, I know you don't wanna do this, but the only way you can travel between chapters without raising suspicion is to go nomad again, an' it has to be with the Canadian chapter, cuz Fox ain't gonna trust you. The Twins will be here tomorrow. They're the only ones who know the real reason for you doing this, an' it has to stay that way. Until we know what side of the fence everyone is on, making the wrong move could split the club.”

  “My ol' lady is gonna flip, you know that, right?”

  “I know, an' I really am sorry. But you know this has to be you.” Bugs shook his head. “It ain't forever, brother. An' I don't see any other way. Vince is gonna start a war if he ain't stopped.”

  Samson didn't see any other way either. Vince had support and had always called on neighboring chapters to help out his own small chapter when necessary. Both he and Bugs were sure that he was acting alone – the chapter had voted against acting as muscle for Moretti, although they had voted to launder some of his cash – but accusing him of causing a war between the Freaks and Serpiente was, at best, foolhardy. He was powerful, ambitious and dangerous, and if he'd teamed up with Moretti – doubly so. If they were going to stop him, they were going to have to play smart. He sighed. “I guess there's not much else to discuss for now. I'll call in the others.”